The Eve
by Mystic25
Summary: A Christams spent at the Weasely's two years after the battle in Deathly Hallows Alternate Universe. HHr
1. Chapter 1

"The Eve."

AUTHOR: Mystic25

RATING: PG13 For language and situations.

SUMMARY: A Christmas spent at the Weasely's two years after the final battle in Deathly Hallow. Alternate Universe

SPOLIERS: References to HP SEVEN.

A/N: this entire thing came about from listening to Josh Groban's "Believe"

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters associated with are the property of J.K Rowling. The lyrics for the song at each new chapter are credited to Josh Groban and the Polar Express. No money is being made off of either of them.

A/N #2: This has Harry/Hermione as well as other pairings, if any of that bothers you please read elsewhere.

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"_Trains move quickly to their journey's end.  
Destinations are where we begin again.  
Ships go sailing far across the sea.  
Trusting starlight, to get where they need to be."_

-Josh Groban "Believe"

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BURROW

CHRISTMAS EVE.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasely slapped her son's hand away from the serving platter of bread pudding he was hovering over.

"Damn Mum," Ron hissed at the stinging pain that had just been inflicted upon his knuckles with the back of the wooden spoon. "I wasn't doing anything wrong," His mother glared at him in such a way that said she knew he was lying to her, and he would be in deep trouble because of it. "Nothing wrong with sampling."

Mrs. Weasely glared at Ron even harder, he was nineteen now, and a good foot taller than his mother, but it was clear that she didn't let that bother her. "You may very well be a grown man Ronald Weasely, but as long as you're under _this_ roof you'll do as I say!" She wiped at a flour stain on her face before leaning over the dining room table to make sure nothing had happened to the pudding. It passed her scrutinizing gaze and she turned around quickly to check on the numerous things she had boiling, baking and roasting in the kitchen.

She was so in tuned to the personal to do list she had going on inside her head that she nearly collided with Ginny who was coming out of the kitchen with a basket of baggetts.

"Mum!" Ginny performed an acrobatic move that would've landed her in Cirque De Solei, catching all of the breads back into the basket before any of them dropped to the floor.

"Sorry dear," Mrs. Weasely apologized to her daughter, but although her words were sincere she didn't even bother to stop in her stride to the kitchen.

Ginny shook her head at her frantic mother. She was like this every holiday season, but this year she seemed even more on edge. Maybe it was due to the fact that, even with her large family, she had never had this many people over for Christmas Eve Dinner before. She had woken Ginny up at the before dawn to help dust the house and de-come the garden. Ginny had no luck trying to de-gnome the garden; the little creatures seemed to sense that there was a big to do happening and made themselves extremely difficult to catch. But with Ron's help Ginny had managed to trick the small gnomes into an invisible fence like barrier she had hexed next to Mrs. Weasely's dormant red roses. They screamed and kicked, but they couldn't get out of the barricade, the entire ordeal had taken over an hour and Ginny and Ron had numerous "battle scars" to treat once they got back in the house. But all Mrs. Weasely did was scab them over quickly with her wand and ordered them to begin setting the table.

"Baggetts?" Ron eyed the bread Ginny was carrying to the table. "Mum always serves pumpkin rolls."

"Mum didn't make these," Ginny laid the basket down on the table next to an elaborate candelabra already lit with glowing candlelight. "Fleur did." She no longer spoke with malice about her sister-in-law, after she had proved her love for Bill after he had been attacked by a werewolf Ginny had to realize that she wasn't that bad. Fleur and Bill had now been married for three years and had two children, two twin girls named Elise and Jeanette. They were two years old now and their giggling screams were heard echoing in the kitchen where Mrs. Weasely and Fleur were preparing food.

Ron's ears pricked at the sound of his nieces' growing giggles. He loved the girls, but ever since they had turned two a few months ago they had been almost impossible to handle. He contemplated escaping up to his room to change for dinner before they discovered him. But before he could act on his thoughts the figures of his two tiny nieces peeked at him from inside the door less doorway of the kitchen. Their observation lasted only a second before – in a mad blur of force – they rushed on him, knocking him over backwards.

"Unky Ron!" Jeannette was the first one to reach him her white blonde hair tickling Ron's nose from where she had firmly gripped his neck. Elise gripped his middle; giggling for no apparent reason other than she enjoyed doing it.

Fleur had heard the bang from the kitchen and came rushing out in a blur of white satin and linen. "What happened?" Her long white-blonde hair framed her face in wispy layers. The white satin dress she was wearing, coupled with the color of her hair made her glow like a heavenly body; the crisp pink linen apron tied to her waist did nothing to cover up this beauty. She spied her two children clinging to Ron's prone form. "What haz gone on here?" She walked over to Ron in two inch heels. "Are you alright Ronald?"

"I'm fine," Ron's voice was muffled under Elise who had crawled up to his face and was currently kissing him. "It's just a couple of broken bones."

"Elise, Jeanette," Fleur took her two girls by the hand, gently pulling them off Ron's form. "You must be careful wiz Uncle Ronald." She dusted off the girl's dresses which were white satin, just like hers, except with a more modest cut at the bust line.

Ginny offered Ron a hand up, trying to hide the smirk that kept rising itself to her face. She dusted off Ron's back the way Fleur had done with the children.

"Are you sure you're alright Ronald?" Fleur asked again, her voice genuinely concerned, but Ron's face was now almost as red as his hair.

"I'm fine Fleur." Ron reassured.

"Don't worry Fleur, it's not the first time he's been beaten up by girls, and it won't be the last," Ginny added, this time letting the smirk spread across her face at the death glare Ron was shooting her.

"Ginny," Mrs. Weasely's voice trailed ahead of her form as both came out into the dining room. She had a wooden spoon in one hand and she waved at her daughter like she was waving her wand. "Is that boy coming tonight or tomorrow?"

"Tonight mum," Ginny said, but not without annoyance at having her boyfriend being referred to as "that boy." She had been dating Seamus Finnigan for almost a year now, and one night after he had come for dinner Molly had caught Seamus in Ginny's room, and since then she had been rather aloof with him.

Mrs. Weasely's eyes flashed with something that wasn't quite anger, but certaintly wasn't reeking of happiness. "I don't know how we're going to fit all these people inside this house. Fred and Angelina have decided to come up tonight as well – at the last minute."

"Angelina can always sit on Fred's lap mum, that would free up a chair." Ron said, knowing he would catch hell for his remark, but finding it rather fun to tease his mother. Fred and Angelina were engaged two months ago, and this would be Angelina's first holiday with the Weasely family.

Mrs. Weasely dealt a clout over Ron's head with the wooden spoon, then turned to Ginny and continued on in a more casual tone. "Have you spoken with Hermione dear?"

"Yeah, she and Harry will be here at six."

Mrs. Weasely smiled, but checked the cuckoo clock that hung on the wall to her right. It was twenty till six already and she still hadn't basted the Christmas Ham and was about to rip her hair out from Christmas preparations.

"I thought they were spending Christmas with Hermione's parents?" Ron asked confused.

"They are," Ginny returned. "They're going to stay here tonight and open presents in the morning, then drive up to London." Hermione's parents were dentists who lived and practiced in the North of London.

"Drive? Couldn't they travel by Floo?" Ron asked "Hermione's home is still connected to the network." Mr. and Mrs. Granger had had their home connected to the Floo Network to make it easier for Hermione to travel to their home in the event of an emergency at Hogwarts. The network had remained connected after the defeat of Voldemort, it was the new Ministry of Magic's way of thanking Hermione for her part in winning the war against the Dark Lord.

Ginny looked at Ron like he was a complete ignorant fool. "They're already going to travel by Floo to get up here. It's not good for Hermione to use it too much."

Harry and Hermione had been married last summer in June at the Burrow. It had been a simple ceremony, with the Weasely family and Hermione's parents. They then had moved into an old but very spacious town house in Oxford after Harry had given Sirius's house back to the Order – he loved his godfather, but the house was too large for two people. One month into their marriage they had recieved a shocked surprise – Hermione was pregnant. It was incredibly fast, and they were often riled about being sex addicts by Fred and George, but they were both happy about it.

"Ginny iz right Ronald," Fleur said. "It isn't good for a woman in Hermione's condition to travel by Floo too often. When I was exzpecting ze girls Bill would Apparatitie me everywhere."

Ron almost asked why Hermione and Harry didn't decide to Appartite into the Burrow, but then he quickly remembered that his mother cast a million protective spells on the house at Christmas. Even thought Voldemort had been defeated years ago there were still pockets of Death Eater resistance movements and Mrs. Weasely would be taking no chances. She left the Floo Network open, but she would not allow for any Appartiting inside her house, the Floo could be tracked, Appartiting wasn't as easy to trace.

There was a sudden knock on the front door that made Fleur, Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasely start. All of their guests would be arriving by Floo; and with all the protection charms only someone with the ability to break them like a Death Eater would be able to get this close to this house. Fleur's willow wand was in her apron pocket and she pulled it out instantly, thrusting herself in front of her girls. She walked a few steps towards the door, but as she neared the foyer, Bill emerged from the top of the staircase, laying a hand on her shoulder to stop her. His own wand was out in his hand and he pushed in front of his wife. He opened the door slowly, his wand raised, poised.

There was a sharp intake of breath, both by Bill and by the persons on the other side of the door. Are you two trying to give me a heart attack?"

Ginny's crazy thought that _two_ Death Eaters had somehow tricked Bill into letting them in was corrected by a familiar voice:

"Sorry Bill."

"What the bloody hell are you doing coming up to the door? We were expecting you by Floo!"

"Believe me so was I," Hermione said, her voice overlapping with Fleur's who scolded Bill for his curse. "But apparently our plans changed without my noticing." She shot a sidelong glance at Harry, whose cheeks were red. But not from her glare, from the cold.

"Can we come in Bill?" Harry asked, he saw the glare Hermione was giving him, but he chose to ignore it, he wasn't in the mood to rehash an argument that had been having for over half an hour. "It's a bit icy out here." It had taken ten minutes for Harry to find the right charm that would disarm the house so he could knock without it attacking him.

"Of course," Bill's moved aside to let them in. Once they were both inside the house he quickly closed the door and reset the protective charms. It took some time because the charms were powerful and he was surprised that Harry had breached them at all. When his task was completed he turned to them with a warm smile: "Happy Christmas," he hugged each one of them as they entered.

"Hermione," Bill teased when his arms were wrapped around Hermione. Even over her long tan overcoat and woolen scarf he could feel the roundness of her stomach. "You've been filling out huh?"

Hermione smiled warmly at Bill's tease, when she was little she would often get into a fit over being teased, but she had been around the Weaselys for too long now and considered their ribbing to be gestures of affection.

She removed her scarf, and allowed Bill to help her out of her coat just as Fleur, Mrs. Weasely and Ginny came upon them.

"Hermione!" Fleur kissed Hermione on both cheeks, then held her out at arm's length, roaming her eyes over her knitted white lace Henley and black pinstripe boot cut pants, all the while saying a rapid string of approvals in French. "My dear you look magnifique!" she kissed her again. "Does she not look radiant mama?"

'Mama' was what Fleur had taken to calling Mrs. Weasely after she had married Bill. At first Molly wasn't too keen on the name, but after Fleur had used it enough she had warmed up to it. And she as 'mama' fully agreed with her daughter-in-law right now.

"Hermione," Mrs. Weasely embraced Hermione as warmly as Fleur had. She had watched the girl grow up since her first days at the Hogwarts Station and considered her as much her daughter as Ginny. "You look wonderful." Mrs. Weasely turned to Harry after Fleur had gotten through hugging him and embraced him.

Harry fell into the hug. He was three inches taller than Mrs. Weasely now, but he still fit into her arms as well as he did when he was eleven years old. "Happy Christmas Mrs. Weasely."

"Happy Christmas my dear." Mrs. Weasely returned warmly kissing Harry's cheek. She studied Harry the way Fleur had done Hermione, her thumb rubbing the spot where she had just kissed him. "Such a handsome face, it's no wonder that Hermione became pregnant so soon."

Harry coughed/choked at that remark and Hermione turned slightly scarlet, but both smiled in the end, because the proof to Mrs. Weasely's words was blatantly peeking out of Hermione's sweater.

Mrs. Weasely took Harry's coat and Hermione's from Bill, laying them on the sideboard that sat against the right wooden partition wall. "Have a seat, have a seat." She turned and nearly almost collided with Ginny again for the second time. "Ginerva Molly, you should really watch where you're going!" Mrs. Weasely pushed past her daughter like she had been dealt a great wrong and scuttled back into the kitchen

Harry dusted the snow that had fallen on to his camel haired blazer and blue dress shirt, all the while trying to repress a grin at Mrs. Weasely using Ginny's full name, but in the end the grin slipped out. "Poor Ginerva Molly, you do get blamed for everything."

Ginny glared at Harry. "If you weren't going to be a dad in a few months Harry Potter I'd kill you on the spot." Her glare dissoloved into a smile as she kissed him quick and chaste on the lips. "Don't know where Mum get's the 'handsome' description."

"You didn't seem to question it when we were going out." Harry returned.

"I discovered I really needed glasses after that night." Ginny volleyed back, crossing her arms over soft cornflower blue tunic.

"If you two want to be alone, I'll just wait outside in the car Harry Appartited us in." Hermione said, the anger clearly evident in her tone.

Harry sighed; he knew that Hermione would find a way to argue her way back into an argument. He loved her very much, but she had been opinionated since childhood.

"Hold on," Ron said standing beside Ginny. "You Appartitied an entire _car?"_ His voice was shocked, but also held the curious excitement that had gotten him and Harry into a lot of mischief grown up.

"It was completely foolish!" Hermione insisted. "Appartiting was to transport individual people, not _cars._"

"It worked. I wanted to make it easier for you," Harry argued. "You used the Floo to visit your mum last week; it's not good for the baby to use it too much."

"I bloody well know about that, but nearly giving me a heart attack Appartiting in an entire Mercedes isn't good for the baby either!" Hermione's stomach did a cartwheel at the memory of feeling a 2000 lb car being dropped to the ground with her in it. They had landed in a clearing thirty yards away and had to walk in the snow up to the Burrow which had refused to let them in.

Harry sighed again, but this time it was a sigh that came with the realization that his plan had been flawed. "I'm sorry Hermione, I completely forgot about Mrs. Weasely's protection charms. I was only trying to help."

Hermione eyed him like something she wanted to slap for another minute, but she felt her anger dissolving. "I'll forgive you this time, but if you every try something so outlandish again Harry James Potter I'll hex off everything below your waistline!"

Both Ron and Harry cringed at the mention of what Hermione was going to dismember.

"A Mercedes Mate?" Ron as incredulously. He didn't know much about cars, but the name sounded important.

Harry nodded. "A Benz S Class," Ron's look didn't change at all. He wasn't obsessed with cars like Muggles; he had never even _driven_ a car.

"It's like the Firebolt of cars," Harry said, seeing Ron's look of appreciation after using a comparison he could understand.

Harry's parents had left him a very large amount of money and Harry had taken the rest of it to the new branch of the Goblin Bank – enacted by the new Ministry of Magic – that exchanged Wizard currency for Muggle, which they believed would help them integrate into their world. He purchased their house with this money, as well as the car. He knew he couldn't very well ride a broom through downtown Oxford. Harry had wanted to be an Auror, but after the defeat of Voldemort Aurors were in limited hiring. However once it was obvious that Death Eaters weren't going to just go away at the defeat of their master, Harry had been accepted as a last minute candidate. But as Hermione's pregnancy had advanced Harry had been talked – rather forced by the head of the Auror department in London – to take a sabbatical. His spot in the Auror Training academy would be assured for him, but the director felt that he needed to be near his wife.

Hermione was a reference cataloger at the library Jordon College in Oxford – a position she loved because she got to be around books and intelligent minds all day – and through her ties she had gotten Harry a job as an assistant to the professor of Mythology. Harry's vast knowledge of hippogriffs, unicorns, elves and other such magical creatures had impressed the professor so much that he wanted to hire him on full time as an associate professor. But Harry had politely declined, he had wanted to be an Auror ever since his Fourth Year at Hogwarts, and as much as he enjoyed helping Muggles to understand this very real world, and that he and Hermione worked in the same place, he knew he wouldn't be happy there.

"Hermione Jean Granger-Potter."

Hermione turned to Ginny, confused at the use of her entire name.

"Sorry," Ginny apologized. "It's just everyone else has been called out by their full name." She raised her wand, and a few feet above it in the air sailed a sprig of mistletoe, she pushed it through the invisible expanse, stopping it just above Harry and Hermione. "I think it's time that you two kiss and make up; and no arguing. Neville told me mistletoe carries a powerful bad luck hex if you ignore it."

Harry turned to stare at the tiny leaves and berries sailing above his head. "You heard the woman," he watched Hermione shoot him another glare. "Hermione come on, I said I was sorry." When she didn't respond, he used another name on her, one he called her more in private then in public.: "Baby. Please?"

"Be quiet," Hermione said, but her words weren't angry. Instead she reached up and grabbed a hold of Harry's head and pulled him down for a kiss.

Harry wrapped his arms around her back, returning her kiss, glad that their argument was settled. There was a loud pop that didn't make them break apart – they were used to the sounds of the Floo Network, but the voices that came next were too hard to ignore:

"Go on suck and blow!"

There was another popping sound –lighter this time. "Fred Weasely, that's private!"

When Hermione broke from Harry she saw Angelina standing beside Fred who was rubbing the part on his chest she had just smacked.

"If they didn't want to be seen then they should've picked somewhere more discrete," the voice of George, Fred's twin brother sounded out beside Angelina. Both brothers lived above their joke shop, and Angelina had come by to pick them both up because their loft lacked a fireplace for Floo Traveling, it was kept warm only by a dying space heater that sat in one corner of their place beside a white washed window.

Angelina shot George a glare with the same force that had fueled the smack she had just dealt Fred. "You two can be huge prats you know that right?"

Fred grinned largely, and dipped Angelia dramatically. "But you find me irresistible anyway don't you?"

Angelina shook her head at him. "I don't know why but I do." She kissed Fred and pushed herself up so that he had to pull back in an upright position.

"Unky Fred, Unky Fred!" Jeanette and Elise came tearing into the room and jumped on Fred.

"Hey-Omph" Fred caught his two nieces in each arm and stood up with them. "Hello darlings, you two staying into mischief?"

The girls giggled, and began pulling at strands of Fred's hair.

"Hello darling," George said, draping an arm over Hermione's shoulder. "You want to get into some mischief of our own?" He wagged his eyebrows at her, then turned his eyes up to Harry. "I'm afraid if you want to fight me mate we're going to have to take it outside."

"Actually I think you need to watch out for Hermione more, she's taken Muggle martial arts classes before she came to Hogwarts." Harry said.

"Really?" George turned to Hermione with a suggestive look. "I wouldn't mind you taking me down Hermione."

Hermione couldn't help it, she was laughing now. "You're awful George Weasely."

"But you're not, and that's the problem." He kissed the side of her face. "Happy Christmas; you're looking marvelous."

"Ravaged as well," Fred came to kiss Hermione next, still holding onto the girls.

Both boys had never kissed Hermione before she had gotten pregnant, but she had gotten more attention from all the Weasely men after her pregnancy. But because she had been an only child growing up she didn't mind being doted on by them; and they didn't mind being over protective of her.

"You already have two girlfriends and a fiancé Fred," Hermione admonished, watching Elise and Jeanette continuing to pull at Fred's hair.

"I can make room for you love," Fred returned with a smile.

Hermione laughed quietly. "Maybe I can make room for _you." _ She held out her arms to Elise. "You want to help me lay out grandmum's silver?"

Elise nodded in excitement and lunged herself into Hermione's arms.

"Are you ready for one of those Hermione?" Angelina questioned.

Hermione glanced down at her stomach, then over at Angelina. "Most defiantly." She walked towards the kitchen carrying Elise. Jeanette squirmed in Fred's arms to be set down and as soon as her feet hit the ground she took off running after Hermione.

Mrs. Weasely was coming out at the same moment – levitating a large serving platter of stewed yams ahead of her- and bumped into Hermione. "Oh dear, I'm sorry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Mrs. Weasely," Hermione reassured. "I'm a rather easy target lately; I should really cast a shield charm on this belly."

"It's a beautiful thing dear," Molly reassured. "I loved my body during my pregnancies, I may have had regrets as to what came out-" she glared over at her two boys who hadn't even acknowledged their arrival to her. "But carrying them was a joy. Come on, there's tons to do that you can help with, just mind you don't lift anything heavier then this little one," She kissed Elise's fingers. "Or this one," she smiled down at Jeanette who came running past her. Molly let the girl lead the way into the kitchen.

"Happy Christmas to you too Mum," Fred said watching his mother's retreating figure.

"What's that about?" Ginny said once her mother was safely in the kitchen. "Mum's run into me _twice_ and both times she's acted like it's my fault. But she barely taps Hermione and she's treating her like a porcelain doll that fell on the floor."

"It's because you're not pregnant Gin," Fred insisted.

"Nor is she going to _get_ pregnant," Ron added. "If Seamus so much as tries I'll-"

"Come off it Ron, you couldn't hex your own reflection! Ginny retorted. "And what Seamus and I do is none of your business!"

"You're my baby sister, it bloody well_ is_ my business!" Ron hissed. "I didn't let Harry mess with you and I won't let Dean."

"Harry and I messed around plenty," Ginny argued, much to the dismayed glance Ron was shooting at her.

"Ginny please, keep it down," Harry said. "I just made up with Hermione."

"Hermione was the one who set us up Harry," Ginny reminded. "And I told her all about us, you're safe."

"_All _about us?" Harry asked worriedly, wondering how descriptive Ginny had gotten to his wife about their former relationship.

"Harry Potter, _this_ is making you blush?" Angelina said amused. "You've got a pregnant wife now; you've obviously gone way past secret snoggings."

"Bloody way past," Harry returned.

There was a beat of silence before the room erupted into amused laughter.

"Right on Mate," George's voice was a salute to Harry.

"I've got to admit you're a lucky man Harry," Fred said. "Hermione was a bit bushy in the beginning, but she's filled out nicely."

"Thanks Fred," Harry said, not really knowing how to reply to a remark like that.

A huge tray of silver cutlery came floating into the room, followed by Hermione who kept it suspended in the air with her wand. Elise was still settled in her arms and Hermione let her grasp the end of the wand above where her own hand lay and help guide the tray to the table.

Harry watched Hermione interacting with Elise; a smile tugging at his lips before he turned a more mischievous smile on Fred. "I'll tell her you said that."

Fred actually looked a little fearful at the suggestion, but Harry got Fred back in a much better way. As walked over to Hermione, he turned the suspense anticlimactic with his next remark to her: "Let me give you a hand."

"I've got it," Hermione reassured sending the silverware flying across the table to arrange themselves in various settings. She saw the look Harry was giving her. Sorting silverware by magic wasn't like lifting a piano, but she could tell that he was just trying to help and she had just shot him down. "Here," she coaxed Elise into holding out her arms. "You can hold Ronald's niece for a while; she wears me out as much as he does." The words she spoke weren't harsh, they were completely affectionate, she kissed the child as she passed her to Harry.

Elise slid into Harry's arms very easily, and he felt her settle herself against his chest.

"Hi," Harry looked down at the girl, she smiled and immediately reached for his glasses, pulling them off his face and holding them up in the air like a trophy she had just one. Harry let her play with them, but when it became evident she was about to smash them on the floor he quickly stopped her.

"I'm afraid I need my glasses," He slid them back on his face. Elise reached out for them, starting to sniffle when he didn't let her take them off again. He shifted her higher up on his shoulder reaching into his blazer pocket for his wand. "Look," Harry held the wand out in front of her, trying to distract her from crying. "Look Elise, see what Uncle Harry made for you." He waved the wand in the air producing a tiny unicorn, the size of a tea cup that glowed with the same radiant light as his Stag Patronus. The Unicorn whinnied and ran around in a circle around Harry, producing a stream of white light everywhere it moved.

Elise had stopped crying and reached out her arms to the unicorn, laughing and trying to catch it in her fingers. She tried to catch the unicorn so hard that she leaned forward and almost fell out of Harry's arms.

"Careful love, you don't want to go flying without a broom." Harry pulled her back to him, rubbing her back; she smiled at him for a split second then chose to ignore him and watched the unicorn with rapt eyes.

Amidst all the silverware flying around Hermione observed Harry with Elise, at how quickly the girl had been won over by him, how gentle he was being with her. She touched her stomach briefly, suddenly aching for their child to be there, because she knew that he would be loved by his father the same way.

Two of her spoons had crash landed together while she was thinking about Harry and the baby, and they stopped the rhythm she had going on.

Harry turned to her after hearing the noise. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Fine," Hermione said, levitating the grounded spoons and sending them whizzing to their proper place. She watched Harry approach her, the look in his eyes still not believing her. "I'm alright baby," Unlike Harry, Hermione readily used this pet name in public, much to the surprise of Ron who had heard her using it when they were in London a few weeks ago visiting Ron at his job. Ron worked alongside his father in the Ministry of Magic's Muggle Department, and it was a job he was extremely proud of.

She kissed the side of Harry's face, this time not missing a beat with her cutlery arranging. She watched Elise sucking on the end of Harry's wand. "You better take her in to Fleur."

Harry smiled at her "Yes Mum."

Hermione pushed him towards the kitchen, but she returned his smile. She sent the last two salad forks zinging into their place and finally the air above the dining room stilled. Hermione picked up the tray turning to take it back to the kitchen and spotted Ginny standing right behind her.

"What?" Hermione said of the look Ginny was giving her.

"_Baby?" _ Ginny's eyebrows had risen so high that they were lost in the strands of her long strawberry red hair.

"Did you expect to call him Mr. Potter?" Hermione returned.

"Maybe when the lights are out," Ginny said with a knowing look.

Hermione shook her head at her friend, but when her eyes met Ginny's they had adapted a bit of a wicked look on them: "No I call him something else when the lights are out."

"Hermione Granger," Ginny's eyebrows had now erupted from her hairline. She and Hermione shared a mirthful look that only two women could posses when discussing sexual innuendo.

Hermione turned without a word – tray in hand- and walked back to the kitchen. Ginny followed; the mirth still evident on both their faces.


	2. Chapter 2

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"_Believe in what your heart is saying,  
hear the melody that's playing.  
There's no time to waste,  
there's so much to celebrate."_

-Josh Groban "Believe"

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The dining room table had been immaculately set. Due to the combined efforts of Hermione, Ginny, Fleur and Mrs. Weasely it glittered from the soft candlelight refracting off the pure silver cutlery and the crystal goblets that had been handed down to Mr. Weasely from his grandmother. The food- once it all had been placed atop the cream-white linen table cloth—had the effect of vibrant colorful paint added to a once white canvas. However, this pristine vision had been an hour ago; an hour that had changed the atmosphere from awe inspiring immaculacy to anything but.

Food had been descended upon by ravenous wolves, otherwise known as Fred and George. They had almost eaten half the ham themselves and their place settings were covered in bits of snow peas they catapulted at each other with their spoons. Beside Fred sat Angelina, who kept adapting a guilty look at her future mother-in-law each time a pea whizzed by Mrs. Weasely. Next to Angelina were Fleur and Bill with Elise and Jeanette in high chairs. Taking cues from their uncles the girls were throwing their peas across the table as well winging them off the wineglasses and serving bowls. A small dark haired child, 18 months old was scurrying around under the table, grabbing at peas that missed their intended targets and had fallen to the floor. His pudgy little grasp found its way to Hermione's leg.

"Teddy-" Hermione managed to pry the boy out from under the table, taking a dust stained pea from his hand before he could eat it. "You have plenty to eat without looking on the floor." She stood up from her chair and passed Teddy Lupin – the son of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks – to his mother.

Her actions were done right over the head of Seamus who was trying to catch Ginny's eye who was seated across from him. But every time he got Ginny to smile at him Mrs. Weasely would parade by, despite a lack of reason to do so, making him turn his attention to the bread pudding on his plate.

"Sorry Seamus," Hermione apologized for hanging over him before reclaiming her seat.

"No harm done," Seamus said offering her a smile but it was lost as he ducked away from Mrs. Weasely's eyes and became fascinated by the act of spearing a piece of ham with his fork.

Tonks settled her son in her lap, changing her hair from the dark brown waves she had to a short spiky bright fuchsia cut, much to Teddy's amusement, and when his mouth was opened wide enough from laughing Tonks shoved some bread pudding inside. But Teddy was laughing really hard now, so much so that the pudding shot out of his mouth and hit Harry right on the side of his face.

"Teddy!" Tonks tried to sound like a disciplining mother, but at the same time she was trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry Harry."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said reaching for his napkin.

"Nice shot mate," Fred congratulated Teddy, who clapped his little hands and at the compliment.

"He might be ready for the Qudditch team after that," Angelina said, amusement coating her words.

Harry tried to wipe the goo off, but he really couldn't see anything, and his attention was distracted when he caught sight of Hermione staring at him. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Hermione said. "I just feel that Angelina's onto something. You may have to lend Teddy your Firebolt." She ducked in laughter when he pitched the napkin at her. "Here," she picked up the damask cloth he had just thrown at her and wiped off the rest of the sticky mess from his hairline. She kissed the side of his head a second later. "And a kiss to make it better," "Mmm, you taste as good as the pudding." The last words were said low enough so that only Harry could hear, Harry and Ron who was sitting on Harry's right and who coughed in amusement.

"How lovely," Mrs. Weasely had caught the kiss and was thoroughly convinced she had just witnessed a moment of pure marital happiness. "Ronald are you ever going to find yourself a girl?"

Ron coughed again, this time because he was choking on a piece of ham. Harry whacked him on the back. "Mum do we have to discuss this_ now_?"

"You're not getting any younger Ron," Mrs. Weasely insisted.

"Mum I'm nineteen," Ron responded. "Bill didn't marry Fleur until he was 25 and Charlie wasn't with Cassandra until last year." His last remark was referring to his second oldest brother Charlie and his wife Cassandra. Both were currently on the outskirts of Romania because their jobs as dragon wranglers had sent them there to catch a heard of Romanian Razor Tailed Greenbacks.

"Bill was very busy after Hogwarts, so was Charlie." Mrs. Weasely was punching holes in Ron's argument left and right. "Whatever happened to that Lavender girl?"

"Viktor Krum happened Mum," George answered. "After Hermione broke it off with him for Harry he started in on Lavender-"

"Hang on, how'd you know that?" Ron cut in. "You weren't even in school anymore then."

"Word travels fast in our circle baby brother," George said. "Lavender was all wrong for you anyway, she had too much on the bottom, your children would've been horrendous."

"How about Luna?" Mrs. Weasely suggested. "She's a nice girl, been your friend ever since your Fifth Year."

"Mum please," Ron pleaded, wishing for nothing more at that moment then for a giant Hippogriff to come crashing through the ceiling to distract her from her questioning. "Luna and I are _only_ friends."

"Harry and Hermione were friends all through school," Mrs. Weasely brought the pair into the argument. "Ever since they were children, now look at them."

Hermione felt her face go red. She placed a hand on her stomach, as if trying to press the baby back down to spare Ron some grief from his mother.

"You should write to Luna, let her hear how you've been," Mrs. Weasely suggested.

"Mum stave off Ron," Ginny said. "Finding a girl isn't a very easy thing." She enjoyed ribbing Ron, but –like Hermione – she was beginning to feel bad for her brother at being interrogated in front of everyone.

Mrs. Weasely whirred on her. "And you Ginerva, are you and Seamus ever going to stop just fooling around?"

Seamus sank lower in his chair; if his wand weren't in his back pocket he'd have cast an invisibility charm on himself then and there.

"Molly," Remus looked up to Mrs. Weasely from his chair. "The holidays weren't made for interrogations."

Mrs. Weasely glared at him, but she returned to her seat.

Seamus and Ron both sighed in relief and Ginny smirked at them. "Can't take the heat ladies?"

"You looked a little hot under the collar too Gin," Seamus whispered to her.

"I'm always hot with you Seamus." Ginny whispered back, seeing Fred, George and Ron affix Seamus with death glares because they had overheard her. She turned back up to them with a ten megawatt smile. "Happy Christmas boys."

XXXXXXX

9:30 PM

The clatter of empty plates sounded off like ringing bells as huge stacks of cleaned china made their way back to the cabinets. Hermione ducked as one of the stacks made their way dangerously close to the top of her head. A pang hit her abdomen and she remained in a hunched over position after the air above her head was clear.

Ginny set down the tray she was about to hand her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Hermione shook her head, standing back up, rubbing her stomach in circles. "The baby is just using my body as a football." When Ginny looked at her in puzzlement she added: "It's a game Muggles play, kicking around a white and black ball into nets. Dad's obsessed with it."

"Ouch," Ginny said, majicking the tray to its place so Hermione didn't have to take it.

"It must be all ze excitement," Fleur said from the sink where she was overseeing the washing of wine crystal with her wand. "When I was pregnant, ze girlz would dance inside me anytime there were a lot of people around."

"Bill and Charley moved like they were swimming," Mrs. Weasely said walking ahead of the broom that was sweeping itself across the floor. "All the time. But Fred and George, they kicked me so hard it felt like they were trying to escape; especially when it got noisy. They were always into dramatics." Molly shook her head, but still smiled at the memory. "Have you thought of a name yet?" she asked Hermione.

"Ava for a girl," Hermione said. "It was my grandmum's name, if it's a boy –" she paused. "I wanted James, after Harry's dad, but I don't think Harry does. He doesn't mention liking it every time I bring it up."

"Maybe it's too painful for him poor thing," Mrs. Weasely said, stopping the broom's movement because the sweeping was complete. "Orphaned at such a young age; he must still miss them terribly." She picked up the broom and set it back in the cupboard. She came over to Hermione, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Don't think I'm making him a story of sentimental piety, dear. Harry's a good man."

"Ze best," Fleur agreed, wiping her hands on her apron. "Except for my Bill of course; but Harry iz a close second."

"Believe me I know," Hermione told them.


	3. Chapter 3

XXXXXXXX

"_Children sleeping  
Snow is softly falling.  
Dreams are calling  
like bells in the distance."_

Josh Groban "Believe"

XXXXXXXXX

"Harry are you alright?" Lupin was seated on the red and white plaid sofa watching Teddy run around the sitting room with Jeanette and Elise in vigorous game of tag. In the corner of the room, next to the wooden staircase that led up the bedrooms, was a six foot tall spruce pine lit with over three dozen candles that had been bewitched with silver and gold flame light making them glow strikingly beautiful against the backdrop of dark evergreen. Brightly wrapped parcels tied off with colorful ribbons were stacked against the tree's base and a tiny Father Christmas flew around the tree dusting white flecks of artificial snow onto the branches.

"Harry?" Lupin stated again when Harry didn't answer.

Harry was standing behind the sofa watching the children run around the room, hearing their giggles. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't sad, he was just watching. "Sorry professor did you say something?"

"I asked if you were alright," Lupin repeated. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm fine, I was just-"

"Lost in your thoughts?" Lupin finished for him.

Harry shrugged into a smile and shook his head. "Yeah."

"There's nothing wrong with that Harry, you've had a lot to think about these last few years." Lupin absent mindedly rubbed his hand across his neck where a long curved raised scar was evident. It had been the mark a Death Eater had left behind during the final war with Voldemort. Lupin had nearly been killed in the battle along with Tonks. They were both gravely injured when Mrs. Weasely brought them back to the Burrow. Tonks had almost died that first night; Teddy had been only a month old then and Lupin was grief stricken with the thought of her loss and was almost completely unable to care for their son, but Molly had forced him to pull himself together for his child and his wife.

Fred Weasely had been injured so badly that he had slipped into a coma. Lupin left after four days at the Burrow because he didn't want to burden Molly and Author, but Mrs. Weasely would check on him regularly and made sure he came up to visit Tonks. It had taken three weeks for Fred and Tonks to recover enough to leave the Burrow, and they both bore monstrous scars from their ordeal, but Molly and Remus were just thankful that they were alive. When Fred awoke from his coma Angelina had thrown herself on him and Fred –true to his nature – tried to French her right there. Mrs. Weasely knew then that her son would make it.

"But a lot of good has happened too," Remus said, smiling as he watched his son race around with the two girls. His eyes were so much like his mother's and Remus was grateful beyond words that they were both around to see him grow up. Harry was Teddy's godfather, but it was a position Remus hoped that he never had to act on outside of dotting on him. "You are the inescapable result of your past, but you can't let that alone define you. You must remember the past, but live where you are."

Teddy ran around the sofa at his father's feet, and Reus grabbed his legs and flipped him over and onto his lap. Teddy squealed.

Harry smiled at the scene.

Remus kissed the top of Teddy's head. "He reminds me so much of you at this age Harry, James and I would spend hours chasing you. Once you took his wand and managed to zap all the hair off his head, it took him two weeks to grow it back," Remus laughed at the memory. "You'll be a father soon enough Harry, I only wish James was around to see it. He would have been very proud of you."

Harry's smile fizzled off his face, but Remus was now turning his attention to Teddy, playing a hide-and-seek game with a ball of light Lupin had created from his wand.

The sound of soft footfalls echoed behind Harry as Hermione entered the room, she walked across the wooden floor to the sofa. She spotted Harry watching Lupin with Teddy silently. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry said. "I must have melancholy eyes or something."

"Your eyes aren't melancholy Harry, they're very expressive." Hermione said, watching Teddy clawing at Remus hands in search of the ball of light hidden in there. "Are you ready for something like that?"

"It's a little late to change our minds Hermione," Harry responded.

Hermione smiled quietly at his joke.

Ron came into the living room taking sips from the mug of dark silk chocolate cocoa that Fleur's mother had sent as a Christmas gift from Paris. He caught sight of the look that Hermione was giving Harry. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all," Hermione answered, her smile still in place. She turned to Ron, taking in his appearance: "That's a nice sweater Ron."

"You don't have to be polite Hermione," Ron insisted staring down at his dark maroon sweater with the large monogrammed golden 'R' across the chest. Mrs. Weasely knitted sweaters for her children every holiday. "I asked for just natural wool this year but mum is still partial to Gryffindor colors."

"It looks fine on you Ron," Hermione reassured. "I would've have said it otherwise." Her words contained a spark of the argumentative flair that had fueled many of their childhood conversations.

"I'm glad you think so, because mum wanted you to have this," Ron held out a baby-sized knitted maroon sweater with a monogrammed 'P' across the chest.

Hermione gave a small gasping laugh and took the sweater from him. "This is adorable!" She held it up "Don't you think so Harry?"

"Lovely," Harry agreed, although not with as much over excitement as Hermione.

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasely came into the room carrying a tray full of the same cocoa Ron was drinking. "That was supposed to be wrapped and put under the tree!"

"We get to open one gift on Christmas Eve mum," Ron reminded her.

"It's beautiful Mrs. Weasely," Hermione informed, seeing Mrs. Weasely's scolding expression turn into a smile at her words. She turned it around several times to admire the knitted stitch work. She had learned how to knit in her Third Year at Hogwarts, but she was nowhere near as good as Mrs. Weasely was.

Fred – who was beside the fireplace – leaned in close to George who was standing next to him. "Mum made that right?"

George nodded.

"It's bloody brilliant that's what it is!" Fred exclaimed after George gave him an answer. Mrs. Weasely took great pride in her Christmas knitting and got highly offensive if her presents weren't met with the same enthusiasm.

"The colors are perfect," Seamus agreed from where he was standing beside Ginny by a frosted over window in the sitting room. He was trying to get back in Molly's good graces. "It's never too early to cultivate a love of Gryffindor in the wee babe. After all, both granddad and dad were in the Gryffindor class."

"What about mum?" Hermione reminded.

"Mum was in a class by herself," Ron quipped.

"Ron!" Hermione glared at him with reproach in her voice, her hands on her hips. Had she not been so obviously pregnant she would've looked exactly the way she had when was 11 years old.

"Sorry Hermione you know I can't help myself," Ron apologized playfully.

Hermione turned to Harry. "And why are you so quiet during all of this?"

"He's my best mate," Harry returned, going along with the joke.

Hermione sighed and shook her head at them. "God help me if this child grows up like either of you!"

"Harry's a star Quiddich player remember Hermione?" Angelina reminded. "So it wouldn't be such a bad thing."

"Plus he's devastatingly handsome," Fred added with overdone sighing stage dramatics.

"And Ron's so –tall," George added right after his brother.

"I can't believe this is actually offending me," Ron stated in disbelief.

"Would it help if I called you beautiful Ron?" Seamus deadpanned.

"You all are a bunch of nutters!" Angelina admonished.

Fred draped an arm across her shoulders. "See what you have to look forward to love?" He leaned in to kiss her passionately but barely got two seconds into it before Mrs. Weasely's voice broke them off.

"There will be none of that in this house!"

"Hermione was snogging Harry all through dinner!" Fred argued.

"Yes and they're married!"

"Well I'm engaged!"

"Fred Weasely if you really want to lose an argument you can keep going, otherwise I suggest you quit while you're ahead."

Fred was about to start in again but his father shook his head from an overstuffed plaid chair that sat next to the sofa.

Fred sighed. "Fine mom, I promise, no more snogging."

Angelina mouthed 'mummy's boy' at him and Fred mouthed back: 'who me?'

"Good," Mrs. Weasely was satisfied with Fred's surrender to her rules. "I still have no ideas where everyone is going to sleep tonight." She grasped at the ends of her skirt as if expecting the solution to fall out her dress pockets. Finally she gave into the fact that she was going to have to piece things together by herself. "Bill, Fleur and the girls are already in his and Charlie's old room- Harry, you and Hermione can take Ginny's bed. I'll fix her a palate on the floor."

"The _floor?_" Ginny repeated, dumfounded.

"Yes dear, it's better for Hermione to sleep in a bed." Mrs. Weasely paid no attention to Ginny's disapproval, considering it a minor sacrifice for her to make. "Angelina, you can take Fred and George's old room, Tonks and Remus can take the other extra bed, Seamus can bunk with Ron." Ron's room was a half level below Ginny's and to reach it from there required passing by Mr. and Mrs. Weasely's bedroom – a deterrent for any 'ideas' of Seamus in Mrs. Weasely's mind.

"And you two-" Molly pointed at her twin sons. "Can sleep in the attic."

"Slumbering with all the rats and moxies on this fine Christmas Eve night; you are a saint Mum," George told her.

Molly chose to ignore him and sighed at the effort of reorganization she had just completed. "I think that's everyone."

"Too bad it's early yet mum or you could see your plans set in motion," Ron teased.

"Actually it's not too early for me," Hermione said around a yawn. She stretched her arms above her head. "I believe I'm going to turn in." Ever since she had become pregnant she tired out early.

"We understand," Fleur said holding Jeanette who was asleep in her arms. "You need ze rest Hermione."

"Good night dear," Mrs. Weasely offered Hermione a hug. "I'm so glad you liked the sweater."

Hermione smiled her appreciation around another huge yawn.

"Are you going to make it up the stairs?" Harry teased her.

"I'll levitate myself if I have too," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Good night."

"Good night," Harry repeated, offering her a light, but lengthy kiss. "I'll try not to wake you when I come up."

She broke away from him with a tired, but satisfied grin and climbed up the stairs to the Burrow's second level.

"You are whipped Harry Potter," Fred stated.

"But it's darling to see-"

"How after over seven years-" Fred finished where George began.

"Hermione Granger-"

"Has finally hooked her man." Fred finished off the twins' combined statement.

"Sod off you two!" Harry ordered. "Hermione isn't like that. We have a perfectly level relationship."

"So says Mr. Granger," George returned, moving away from Harry who looked ready to punch the smile off of his face.

"That's enough of that boys," Mrs. Weasely warned them in the same tone she used when she caught them burying garden gnomes under her flowerbeds. She handed them two of the mugs of cocoa. "Here, occupy your mouths with these."

"Harry dear," she handed him one of the mugs as well.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully, sipping the hot concoction. The cocoa was just hot enough that it warmed his throat without burning it, and the dark chocolate was at the perfect level of bitterness to compliment the temperature.

Mr. Weasely also took a satisfying hit from his mug. "This is always a treat Fleur."

"Thank you," Fleur said with her golden smile that had brought millions of men to their knees. "Mama will be pleased you think so." She softly stroked Jeanette's silky hair with one hand. "I think it's time ze girls went to sleep," she looked over at Bill who was holding a sleeping Elise against his shoulder.

"I don't think they need any help with that darling," Bill said. He pulled Elise up more securely in his arms.

"Hold on," Mr. Weasely stood up from his chair. "You can't let them leave without letting granddad say goodnight." He leaned down and kissed the girl's cheek; she sighed sleepily but didn't wake up. "Happy Christmas my love," he repeated this gesture with Jeanette.

"Happy Christmas everyone," Bill said softly waving with his free hand. He followed Fleur up the stairs with their sleeping children tucked in their arms.

Harry sat down on the sofa with the mug of cocoa balanced on his knees. Ron sat beside him, eyeing Father Christmas continuing on his rounds around the tree. "Some night ay?"

"Some night," Harry agreed.

"I can't believe mum got through it all without having a breakdown."

Harry laughed quietly at this. "I can't believe you did either, I thought you'd have an arranged marriage planned before dinner was over."

"Mum's always talking Harry," Ron said. "All that cutesy stuff you and Hermione were pulling just made her more adamant about it."

"Sorry," Harry felt the need to apologize for this.

"Don't apologize Mate." Ron said. "You two were destined for each other."

A long time ago Ron had developed a crush on Hermione. They had gone out for all of four months during their Fourth Year; sparking jealously in Ron for her closeness with Harry during the Triwizard Tournament, it had caused them to break up, and Hermione had started seeing Viktor Krum and he Lavender. In their Sixth Year Hermione had broken it off with Viktor and Ginny had taken up with Harry. But after the death of Dumbledore Harry and Ginny's relationship had ended. Through all the hell that had happened in their Seventh Year Hermione had drawn closer to Harry and he to her. Ron had watched them all during their months on the run at Grimmand Place, in the tent on the outskirts of London – and it was then that he realized that Harry and Hermione had loved each other all along.

When Harry had been carried into Hogwarts by Hagrid – presumed dead – Hermione had screamed and leapt out to attack Voldemort. It had taken all of the energy Ron had to hold her back. After Voldemort had been defeated Harry and Hermione had clung to each other so tightly it had taken both Molly and Lupin to pry them apart to see to the wounded in the castle. Dean Thomas had been killed that night, along with the Patel Twins and a dozen other Griffandyor's and students from all the other houses, Fred was injured into a coma, Tonks had had her back broken by a Cruciatius Curse and Harry was in St. Mungo's for a week due to acid burns from a Death Eater's spell that had hit him seconds after Voldemort's demise. It had been a war won, but not without terrible tragedy.

Hermione had stayed with Harry the entire time he was in the hospital, forgoing the rules for once in her life. They had begun officially dating after that and last February – on Valentine's Day Harry had proposed to her, on the steps in front of her parent's dentistry practice in London. Mrs. Granger had cried, Mr. Granger had shook Harry's hand heartedly and Hermione had turned so red she matched the color of the rose he had strung her engagement ring on.

"You really believe in destiny?" Harry asked Ron. "I thought we both slept through Divinations."

This time it was Ron's turn to laugh. "That old coot was right about a few things, you're on your way to having those five children." In their Fifth Year Professor Trelawney had redone her prophecy on Harry's tragic death, and had proclaimed that he lived to be Minister of Magic and have five children.

"I don't think Hermione's up for four more children at the moment; she hasn't even had this one yet."

"I still can't believe that you're going to be a dad," Ron said. "It's bloody insane."

"Barking mad," Harry agreed with a laugh that ended in a grin, but it wasn't as humor filled as he intended it to be.

"You'll be fine Mate," Ron slapped him on the shoulder. "Just do whatever Hermione says."

"Well-" Fred stretched his arms over his head, giving a fake yawn. "I supposed I should retire as well, it's been a very long trip and I need—'sleep'" he cast a sly, suggestive glance over at Angelina who returned with her own Cheshire cat grin.

"_Sleep_," Mrs. Weasely didn't believe her son's words for one minute. " I'm your mother, you can fool me!"

"Why mum, I'm offended that you don't trust me, your own grown up engaged son!" Fred placed a hand to his chest as if he'd been gravely wounded.

"Fredrick Phillipson Weasely, get yourself up those stairs or I'll hex you into next week!" Mrs. Weasely chased Fred up the stairs waving her wand at his head. "And the only thing lying underneath you had better be your sheets and pillows!"

"And you heard him exclaim as he dashed out of sight-" George recited the beginning of: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas.'

Fred stopped halfway up the stairs and waved at the others dramatically: "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good shagging tonight!" Fred ran the rest of the way up the stairs before Molly could raise her wand.


	4. Chapter 4

_XXXXXXX_

"_We were dreamers not so long ago.  
But one by one we all had to grow up._

When it seems the magic slipped away,  
we find it all again on Christmas day..."

Josh Groban "Believe"

XXXXXXXX

2:15 AM

Hermione rolled over onto her back, feeling a tiny pang in her body as she did so. She had turned onto her side in her sleep, and lying in that way on her stomach wasn't exactly comfortable. She stretched out her arms and one of them fell against an emptiness in the bed. She turned her head and saw that she was alone. She sat up and pulled the covers off, turning the switch on the kerosene lamp that sat on a small table beside the bed.

"Hey! Put that light out!" whispered an angry voice that wasn't Ginny's

"Sorry," Hermione apologized carefully stepping over both Ginny and Seamus lying on the floor to reach her robe. Seamus had come into the room an hour ago after he was sure that Mrs. Weasely was finally asleep. Ginny was fully clothed above the wool afghan she was under, but Seamus shirt and a few articles of Ginny's clothing were lying discarded next to them. "Harry hasn't come in yet, I want to find out where he is." She gave no indication of surprise at seeing Ginny and Seamus in their current situation.

Ginny kept herself covered with the blanket and handed Hermione the robe. "Don't tell Mum, I'd rather enjoy a quiet Christmas Morning."

"Don't worry, you're safe," Hermione said slipping the white terry towel over her sleeveless nightgown and tying it off. "This isn't endangering the ways of Wizard Kind."

"You're a good woman Hermione," Seamus said slipping an arm around Ginny's waist from under the blanket.

"Just don't stand up, either of you until I'm out of the room," Hermione said in warning.

Hermione walked to the door and stepped out into the hall. The hallway was dark, but moonlight streaming through a shield shaped window, casting enough of a gray glow for her to see by. The oak wood floors were cold under her bare feet, making her wish she hadn't taken off her woolen socks in the bed. She debated on turning around and retrieving them, but decided she could deal with cold feet as opposed to walking in on Ginny and Seamus.

Pictures of the Weasely's distant relatives smiled down at her from their frames mounted on the wall. Hermione was surprised to see one of her and Harry taken on their wedding day next to one of Mrs. Weasely's Aunt Tessa. It was a strange thing to see yourself smiling back at you repeatedly. Harry looked almost shy, but very handsome in the black dress robes and she had on a strapless eggshell white dress with her hair in an updo scattered with tiny white roses, her arms wrapped around the front of his shoulders. Hermione compared how much smaller her waistline had been back then with a sigh before venturing further down the hall.

A pinpoint of light moved slowly along the wall on the left. It wavered there for a second before suddenly throwing itself at Hermione, and illuminated both her and the person who was traveling by it.

"Hermione," Fred stepped over to her in a bright blue robe with a silver 'W' emblazed on the right corner. "What are you doing up?"

"I'm looking for Harry," Hermione responded. "He hasn't come to bed yet."

"Oh. He was still down in the sitting room when I came up." Fred looked like he had gotten caught doing something illegal. "I was just coming down to see Angelina –" he paused for way too long, staring at the door to his old bedroom. "Sometimes we like to have these late night talks you see."

"Fred for heaven's sake you don't have to tip toe around with me!" Hermione snapped. "I'm six months pregnant, it's not like the idea of two people having sex the middle of the night is a foreign concept."

Fred's eyebrows rose at her answer, then a smile tugged at his lips: "Why Mrs. Potter, you're so very frank tonight –I like it." He took a step closer to her. "Just remember, mum's _not_ the word."He stepped back to the door and twisted the knob, but didn't push it open right away, turning back instead to Hermione: "I'm going to get me my Christmas present early, you go get yours too."

Fred disappeared into the bedroom, and as Hermione walked away she caught what sounded like Fred saying: "You ready to see a _real_ Whizzing Weasely rocket?"

She stepped carefully down the curving staircase and walked quietly into the sitting room, seeing the glow of the bewitched candles, and Father Christmas sleeping at the base of the tree on top of a soft package that she knew to be a wrapped sweater for Ron.

The sofa and the chairs around it were all empty, the stillness of the air only broken up by the quiet ticking of the cuckoo clock. There was a large multi-payned window that overlooked the front drive, revealing the beginnings of a soft snowfall in the night outside. Hermione found Harry at this window, watching the flakes add to the building white carpet on the sleeping ground.

"Harry?"

Her voice made Harry turn around to her. "Hermione, what is it? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she walked over to where he was standing. "I just woke up, and I wondered where you were."

"I couldn't sleep," Harry took his eyes off the snow and looked down at her. He was only two inches taller than he was so it was really more of a slight downward tilt of his head.

Hermione turned to glance out at the snow for a moment. "It's beautiful out, it reminds me of our first Christmas at Hogwarts, do you remember? You and Ron kept convinced me to study outside and spent the whole time pitching snowballs at my head."

"I remember you were throwing them too after a few minutes." Harry said

"Well I had to get even with you two," she smiled.

Harry smiled as well, for a brief moment, then it suddenly vanished and his face shifted into a new territory of emotion: "Do you think I'll be a good father?"

"Harry what?-" The change of subject was so sudden that it caught Hermione off guard, blindsiding her with what to say: "Of course you'll be. You were wonderful with Elise all night."

"I wish I was as confident as you Hermione."

"I'm not as confidant as you might think, we're both new at this, but so is everyone at first."

"You don't understand-" Harry cut himself off what he wanted to say but couldn't get to come out. "Your mum Hermione, she watched you grow up. You have all these memories of your childhood with her, and now you have this connection with her because she went through what you're going through now. I don't have that connection – my dad died before I could even remember him." The intensity of his gaze burned through her eyes, her brain, into her very being. "How can I be a good father when I can't even remember my own?"

Hermione touched his shoulder, sweeping away a thousand sentimental answers that hovered in the air, begging for her to use them. "As long as you love your children, it will be more than enough. Your dad knew this; it's why he sacrificed himself – that's how he loved you."

"It's not enough," Harry's words had dropped as quiet as a still night. "I want him here –" a tear dropped from his eye like a falling star, and he made no move to wipe it away. "I'm sorry I know that sounds bloody selfish-"

"Harry-" Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck.

Harry slid his arms around her back, holding her, feeling a heaviness settle in his chest. "I miss my dad Hermione."

Hermione nuzzled her head into his neck, feeling her own tears splash onto her cheek. She wished so badly at that moment that she knew James Potter; that he was here, that he could hold his son. She pulled away suddenly when a sharp pang smacked into her side.

Harry looked at her in concern "What is it?"

Hermione's answer was to take his hand and press it on her stomach.

It only took a second for Harry to feel the baby kick out against his hand. A mixture of wonder and awe spread itself across his face at feeling his own child move.

Hermione saw the expression color every inch of his face. "How can you possibly think that you won't be a good father?"

Harry moved his hand from her stomach to her face and kissed her with an emotion that couldn't be expressed to her any other way. He pulled away after several moments and bent low, kissing the roundness of her belly.

Hermione caressed a hand through his hair. "Happy Christmas Harry."

XXXXXXX

End.

I always loved the Christmas moments at the Weasely's and wanted to do something with one. The family is so large and chaotic that it makes it wildly fun. And I love Harry and Hermione, so of course we had to have them. This was intended to be fluff, but not sugary sweet candy, I didn't want Harry reflecting on his dad and just thinking 'oh how wonderful I knew him for a year before he died'. I wanted to show his sadness, his love for his father in a much more real light.

Please review.

Peace,

Mystic


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